


A Million Little Times [Bokuto Kotaro]

by solthesun



Category: haikyuu, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, M/M, Open ended, Self-Indulgent, high school sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solthesun/pseuds/solthesun
Summary: For Bokuto, you’d ruin yourself, a million little times.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 129





	A Million Little Times [Bokuto Kotaro]

**Author's Note:**

> hello! thank you for reading this! this is super self indulgent. i was listening to 'Illicit Affairs' and i suddenly got this idea. taking a break from writing heavy yandere, so here we are with angst! i hope you'll like it!!
> 
> (do listen to the song for more feels-- if it works???)

Having married Bokuto Kotaro for three years, being friends with him since middle school, and knowing him for almost half of your life; you knew the little things about him. Bokuto was an open book. He was very open with his emotions, and even if he denied he was, you knew he was very easy to read.

When Bokuto was happy, his eyes would be gleaming and bright, face plastered with a grin. He would embrace you from behind while you did the dishes, tell you about his day, how practice went, and ‘help’ you cook. When Bokuto was upset, his hair would be drooping, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pouted. He’d join you on the couch, and you’d play a movie for the two of you to watch. Ever since high school, Bokuto had always been considered moody. Despite that, you loved him. You thought that was something that made him stand out from the others— _something that made him so special._

Being together ever since your last year in high school, until he started playing for MSBY, and finally being married to him for 3 years, had both its ups and downs. You and Bokuto weren’t always happy, but you made it through. The two of you always made sure to work things out, always making sure to talk things through before you sleep every night. You’ve seen him grow into such an amazing person—into the _ordinary ace_ he was now.

Change was constant with Bokuto. He was like a whirlwind of emotions, and you loved how you’ll never know which one he’ll make you feel at that moment. But lately, he had been changing. It was a change that somehow scared you. There were days you woke up to an empty bed, and that surprises you every time. Bokuto was not usually a morning person, unless he had morning practice. You were also busy with your own job; meetings usually took a lot of your time, you were often in other places which were required by your job as a travel writer. Often times you weren’t home, but there was never a day that you didn’t miss him.

_The cold days became even colder, and you’ve had enough with feeling that you had lost Bokuto’s whole heart._

You hear shuffling in one morning, and usually you wouldn’t pay it any mind, but this time you groggily sat up from the bed that you shared. You see him changing into a pair of black shorts, grey shirt under his white windbreaker. He turns to look at you, his golden eyes so beautiful and so soft. A gentle smile graces his lips, and the same happens to you.

“Out for a run?” You ask, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Yeah, gotta take one before practice later.” He responds, sitting beside you as he kisses your forehead.

Your heart warms at the gesture. Bokuto was very affectionate with you, but lately he had resulted to gentle kisses, embraces, and ghost touches on you. It felt like there was something heavier behind it, but you never pressed further.

“It’s going to rain though. I saw the forecast last night.” You hold his hands. They were much bigger than yours, and it seemed like there were spaces your fingers can never cover.

He squeezes your hand affectionately, thumb rubbing the skin gently. _Bokuto was warm_.

“I know.” Was his short answer.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep in with me for a bit more?” You ask, hoping he might give in, _like he did before_.

But he shakes his head as a response, a soft _no_ leaving his lips. You had gotten used to it by now, and though it pains your heart to let him go, you knew you couldn’t stop him. He presses another kiss on your forehead—longer this time—and you close your eyes.

Then he was gone.

You lay back on the bed, the sheets colder now. You couldn’t hold back the sob that comes out of your lips, as you curl in bed and take in the loneliness that was beginning to make itself known again.

* * *

The days that followed were busy. You were going places, taking photos, writing— _but your mind was at home._ It was in your bedroom. Bokuto had been busy too, with upcoming games, interviews, photoshoots. Everyone was busy, and you were glad you got to work again. These were usually the days when you rarely went home, and if ever you did, you’d only be there for a short while, then you’d be gone again. Still, a day doesn’t go by without you checking up on your husband. You knew Bokuto felt lonely very easily, so you spoke to Akaashi to keep him company if he wasn’t busy. The three of you go way back, and you trust both of them to be responsible enough— _well, Akaashi was responsible enough to keep both of them out of trouble._

You’d sent Bokuto messages, most of which reminding him to make sure he eats good food, and not just fast food. That’s partly the reason why you ask Akaashi to stay over while you were away, he was a wonderful chef.

**_Mrs. Bo-cute-oh_** _: hey hey hey! Make sure you eat well, okay? I asked Akaashi to come over today. I won’t be home for another two days, so you boys better not make a mess of the place, okay?_

You’d wait for a while for his reply, and sometimes you’d be drowned in your work to even realize he’s already sent it. You’d only get to read it a few hours later. Sometimes it’d be left unread.

**_Mr. Bo-cute-oh:_ ** _yep, kaashi’s here, babe. Thanks for telling him. Feeling lonely without you. Focus on your work so you can come home sooner xx_

_**(3 unread messages)**_

****

* * *

Coming home was something you’ve always looked forward to. After a long time of traveling and seeing beautiful unfamiliar places, you longed to be in the comfort of your home— _Bokuto._ Being embraced by his bigger arms made you feel at home. It was familiar, it was warm, it was _enough_.

“I missed you.” He’d say, and you would smile as you go on your tip toes to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“I missed you more.”

The smile widens as he kisses you more, peppering your face with soft kisses.

“I missed you most.”

And you’d stay in that embrace for a while. Then it would be back to normal with the two of you. Bokuto would be busy with practice, dinners, interviews, and you’d be busy compiling your works. It was a cycle that happened over and over again. You’d be gone, he’d long for you, you’d come back, then it’ll be warm— _and then cold._ You always thought it was something normal, because love wasn’t always about having sparks and enjoying. The years spent with Bokuto was proof to that. Fights were normal, being cold in the relationship was normal, at the end of the day, he was still the only one you’d come home to. _You had hoped it was the same for him._

Tonight was one of the rare nights that Bokuto wouldn’t be home. He’d usually prefer to be at home right after their practice, but this time, he wasn’t. The ex-ace had sent you a message that he’d be out late with the rest of the team— _a team’s night out—_ he called it. You simply laughed at their silliness, sending him a quick reply to keep safe and to say hi to the boys for you. He doesn’t respond.

You then spend the rest of the night working, catching up with your friends, and drinking your favorite tea as you sat in the balcony. A storm was coming—you hoped you’d be prepared for it. Bokuto hated thunderstorms; he couldn’t practice, games would sometimes be called off, so were their usual interviews. But he loved them as well, because thunderstorms meant cuddling, drinking hot chocolate while you argued about whether you should get a cat or an owl, and sleepy kisses from you.

A cold cup of tea is left outside when the rain pours, you fall asleep to the sound of its angry patters, dreaming about the man you love.

* * *

Bokuto hated hurting you. In your entire three years of marriage, he had never hurt you physically, but he knew he hurt you emotionally. It was unintentional. You were such a beautiful soul— _so kind, so loving, so smart._ You were everything he wanted, and he had been so happy to be with you. What the two of you had was like a good plot for most of the romance novels you’ve read— _and you’ve read to him._ Bokuto believes that you don’t choose who you love. He never chose to love you. You were his best friend, his greatest confidant, biggest cheer leader, and biggest enemy all in one— _and yet he never chose to love you._ It just so happened that he did. And it also just so happened that he loved Akaashi as well.

Before you, there was Akaashi—the reliable, smart, put together— _Akaashi Keiji._ He was only the team’s setter back then, and then he became Bokuto’s best friend—and _your best friend too._ He never expected to be anything more than that. Akaashi was younger than you and Bokuto, but he was always there with the two of you—with Bokuto. The younger male didn’t expect to fall in love with him either.

After years of keeping those feelings bottled up in his chest, Akaashi finally gets the courage to tell Bokuto about it— _over drinks, in Bokuto’s bachelor’s party._ He didn’t get drunk easily, but he went all out with drinking, because he was happy for Bokuto, and he was sad for himself. Bokuto hated himself for what happened next; waking up the next day to a peacefully sleeping Akaashi— _he almost forgot about you. **His fiancée, his bride, and soon to be wife.**_

Bokuto never chose to love you, but he also didn’t choose to love Akaashi. It wasn’t the setter’s fault, nor was it yours, nor was it Bokuto’s. Yes, you were there for Bokuto ever since— _but Akaashi was his first love, **and first love never dies.**_

“We should tell her, Kotaro.” Akaashi tells him one day.

The raven haired ex-setter doesn’t address him as ‘Bokuto-san’ when they’re alone. He calls him by his first name, and it’s something Bokuto had fallen in love with. _Every day he falls more and more in love with Akaashi, and less with you._

“I’m not sure how to tell her, Keiji. We’re _married_. Things like this aren’t usually settled over a cup of coffee.” Bokuto’s answer surprises Akaashi, and even himself.

Akaashi was your best friend too. The setter knew you trusted him with Bokuto, which is why you’d always let him know about you leaving and when you were coming back. You’d remind him to keep Bokuto out of trouble, in case any more of the paparazzi were going to make issues on him again. He sighs as he removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. Thinking about telling you, and breaking your heart in the process was also taking a toll on both Akaashi and Bokuto.

 _If only things played out differently._ But they didn’t, and that was the harsh truth. Bokuto embraces Akaashi, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. It’s tearing him apart— _loving both you and Akaashi._

* * *

The days came when you felt that the home you stayed in no longer felt like _home_. Bokuto was there, but the two of you barely spoke to each other. You couldn’t escape your parents’ and your relatives’ questions of when you were planning to have children. When they do, you only hold hands and smile at them.

_“Soon enough. We’re still both busy, and we want to take in this time to just be together.”_

You knew that was a lie. You had wanted to have your own children, but you weren’t sure if you would be ready, or if Bokuto would be ready. He was great with kids—in fact, he was great with everyone. And you notice how _good_ he was to Akaashi lately. Those clandestine stares he throws at Akaashi’s way when he thinks no one is looking. The lingering touches that would last a little longer than usual. The little conversations they had in your kitchen; Akaashi leaned against the counter, Bokuto beside him, and he looked _so_ happy. Much like how he was in the first two years of your marriage.

Something wasn’t right, but you brushed it off your mind. You knew how close they were, and you trusted Akaashi and Bokuto enough. You were sure your husband loved you— _right?_

But your question was answered when you were out with a friend. You’ve just bought the first copy of the magazine that had your article, it was something you worked really hard on. You thought about celebrating with Bokuto, maybe just the two of you for now, then you’ll invite your friends after you’ve celebrated with the love of your life. However, the big smile on your face disappeared when you saw the said frost tipped man step out of a café, hand in hand with an _all too familiar_ editor. Akaashi’s hands seemed to fit in his so perfectly.

_‘It’s okay, just call him. He’ll answer.’_

You prayed as you took your phone, calling your husband. You saw them stop, and he picks up the phone. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, but the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach didn’t disappear.

_“Hey, babe.”_

_“Hi baby! Where are you right now?”_

He pauses, eyes locking with Akaashi.

_“Oh, I just got something important. Meeting the boys in a while. Did you need something?”_

Something important? Did he seriously just lie to your face?

_“Um.”_ You felt the tears coming, so you cleared your throat. _“I was thinking about celebrating tonight!”_

You see him smile, but it wasn’t as wide as it was before. This breaks your heart.

_“That’s great baby! Did you get the copy of your magazine? I got one just now!”_

He was in fact carrying a paper bag, that must have been it.

_“Yes, I got one. Just now, too.”_

_“That’s great. See you tonight, babe. Gotta go. I’ll see you later!”_

_“Yeah… see you.”_

The call ends, neither of you saying I love you.

* * *

You sit on the floor of your living room, facing the wide window that showed the dark skies, the thunder and lightning. It was past 8, and you thought Bokuto would be home by then. It was rarely that he came late to your usual dinners, _but you guessed he was busy._ Dinner was cold and forgotten on the table. You opted to drink tea, to calm your nerves. That had been a long day. You check your phone: close to 9 pm, and he still wasn’t home. You weren’t going to call him. Bokuto will come home if he wants to, and if he doesn’t— _then you know why._ You fell asleep on the cold floor, legs pressed to your chest as the rain lulled you to sleep again.

_“—(y/n)-san. (y/n)-san.”_

You woke up to his voice, and you looked up to see Akaashi. You sat up slowly, noting the pain on your body for sleeping on the floor. After looking outside and seeing it was still dark and raining, you guessed it was past midnight. Then you bring your attention back to Akaashi.

“Akaashi, what are you doing here this late? Is Kotaro with you?”

Of course, you knew that wherever Akaashi was, Bokuto was there. _And this was your home, your husband had to be home already._ Only after forgetting dinner, it seemed.

“Yes he is. I’m sorry, he had a little too much to drink.” Akaashi says as he helps you up, you see your husband on the couch— _drunk._

“Thanks for bringing him home. Will you be fine going back by yourself?”

“Yes, I brought my car.”

You walk to the couch to see him barely keeping himself together. Bokuto was upset, and you knew that because of how his eyebrows furrowed, and how messy his hair was— _and because he drank this much._

Akaashi was about to leave when Bokuto holds his hand.

“Keiji… don’t leave.”

_That delivered the first blow._

Akaashi looked at you, surprised. And you just knew he was on edge after that. Then he looks back at Bokuto, his eyes softening.

“Bokuto-san, (y/n)-san is here to take care of you.” Akaashi says, gently taking his hand out of Bokuto’s grasp.

The latter grumbles, feeling for Akaashi’s hands. He takes that as a chance to say goodbye, and to leave. You note the way he looks back at Bokuto with concerned eyes, before he’s gone into the night. You look back at your husband, kneeling to his height and brushing his hair out of his face.

“Ko, let’s go back to bed? I’ll help you change first. Can you stand?” You say as you stroked his face gently.

_“Mmnhm—Akaashi…”_

_Then the second blow._

With a shaky breath, you help him up. Bokuto was heavy, but at least he was trying to keep his balance as you both walked to your bedroom. He flops on the bed, and you tend to him. Wiping wet cloth on his face, helping him change into more comfortable clothes, and tucking him in bed. This wasn’t the first time he had been drunk, the last time he was, they had lost a game.

You sat beside the bed, stroking his face softly. His hands hold on to yours, thumb stroking your skin affectionately— _like he always did._

“I love you, Kotaro.”

Silence.

You prayed.

_“I love you… Keiji.”_

* * *

Bokuto wakes up the next day with a splitting headache. He hated drinking so much that he barely even remembered what he did the night before. He takes in his surroundings and he finds himself in the bedroom he shared with _you._ He bolted out of bed, forgetting the headache. He looked beside him to find your space empty. _Cold._

_Where were you?_

Standing up immediately, he walks out of the room, calling out your name. He just remembered he was supposed to have dinner with you last night, but he had been out with Hinata and Kuroo— _and Akaashi. **Shit.**_

“(y/n)? Babe?” He calls out as he steps in the bathroom. You weren’t there either.

He walks out and almost misses your form sitting in front of the large windows. It had been raining, and he notes how beautiful you looked just sitting there—so effortless. He walks up to you, a smile on his face, but he notes how the whole place seemed _colder_ than it usually did.

“Babe? Hey…”

He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent—his favorite mix of citrus and cream. Bokuto places soft kisses, but you don’t respond like you usually did. You didn’t giggle, or laugh— _nothing._

“Baby, I’m sorry about last night—“

“It’s alright.”

Your voice was hoarse. Bokuto can feel his heart drop already. Your hands weakly pry his arms off of you, and Bokuto sits there watching you do so.

“(y/n), is something wrong?” He asks as he sits beside you, golden eyes looking for any sign that might give a hint.

You face him, and his heart breaks at the sight of your tear stained face, red nose, and flushed cheeks. _You had been crying._ Bokuto thinks he already knew why.

“How long?”

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He’d practiced this a lot of times. Gone over it with Akaashi, but now that he was facing you, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Tears welled in your eyes again as you begged him to just tell you.

“A year.”

A choked sob made its way out of your lips. Bokuto tries to reach for you, but you push him away.

“Babe—“

_“Don’t call me that!”_

Bokuto flinches at the anger that seethed in your voice, but he understands why. Your shoulders were shaking as you sobbed, hands gripping the shirt you were wearing— _his favorite shirt._ He watches you as you cried, and when he’s had enough of watching, he pulls you in his chest. You punched him, hit him, slapped him, but he never let go. He held you close and tight. Then you stopped hitting him, and just continued crying, until they were reduced to sniffles.

Bokuto felt himself tear up, and he feels the tears when he feels that you no longer fought back. He blamed himself for his infidelity. He could have chosen you— _because you were his wife,_ in the eyes of both man and God. He presses a kiss on the crown of your head, longer than he usually did, and the tears drop.

_“(y/n), I’m so sorry.”_

There was silence, and you held on to him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck before you resumed crying again. This time, he cried too. He held on to you. He realized he didn’t want to lose you—but he also didn’t want to lose Akaashi. He loved you—but he also loved Akaashi. He had to choose one, and at that moment, even though it hurt him, he knew who he chose already.

_“Please forgive me. I’m so fucking sorry.”_

You pulled away, cupping his face in the palm of your smaller hands. He holds on to them, _because he’s afraid of losing you now._

_“Ko, for you I’d ruin myself a million little times.”_

_**But he already has.**_


End file.
